


Innocent sinners

by ImmortalAcorn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalAcorn/pseuds/ImmortalAcorn
Summary: Harry and Ron are aurors assinged to handle a murder investigation of a famous quidditch player found in the Knockturn Alley. The evidence is lacking and the only suspect is Draco Malfoy, who seems to be as big of a prat as ever.Something sinister is happening. Or maybe just an illicit love affair.





	1. The murder

It was a boring day at the office. Too many reports to write, because they left it for the last minute. As usual.

Ron was sitting opposite him, hopefully doing the same.

They should be more organised, Harry thought, because if this was going to go on, they would end up buried under the stacks of paper.

He was just yawning when he saw Robards coming towards their cubicle. He tried to hide his open mouth but to no avail.

‘Enjoying the paperwork I see,’ Robards said and shook his head. ‘I hope those will be on my table by tomorrow.’

‘Er. Sure,’ Ron agreed dispassionately. Harry nodded.

Robards sighed. ‘It better, Weasley. Because I have a new case for you two.’

Harry sat up straighter. ‘What is it?’ He preferred anything else but sitting all day long doing administration.

‘A body was found in Knockturn alley. Someone used an Unforgivable. The victim is Madeline Davies.’

‘The Holyhead Harpies chaser?’ yelped Ron from his chair.

‘Yes. We were informed few minutes ago. Go there right now and investigate.’ He threw a folder on Harry’s desk and left.

‘He is becoming shorter with us lately. I wonder why,’ mused Ron. ‘Well, let’s go,’ he stood up and put on his robes. Harry did the same and they left the office.

 

***

 

They were standing with an old witch who found the body in front of a dingy brick house.

‘I noticed her slumped here against the wall, so I walked out to tell her, you know, to go away. I didn’t want to have a drunk here or something. But when I kicked her, well, she just fell down and didn’t move.’

‘You kicked her?’ asked Ron, while Harry was moving his wand around the body and the area.

‘I didn’t want to touch her with my bare hands!’ gasped the witch.

‘Of course. So then you called the aurors?’

‘Yes and if I knew they would send Harry Potter I would make myself more presentable,’ she leered. Harry just rolled his eyes.

He was running diagnostics but was coming up empty handed. He crouched beside the body and looked around. She looked like she was sleeping.

‘Thank you for your time miss Bryant. If we have any additional questions we will contact you.’ Ron dismissed her.

‘Oh please, I can stay and help some more perhaps,’ she grinned at Harry, who wasn’t looking her way.

‘Thank you, but no civilians may be present here.’

The witch was going on about something, but Harry didn’t listen to the conversation any more. He glimpsed something white in her hand. He looked closer and he saw what it was.

A white handkerchief. With three letters sewn into it.

Ron and the witch were still arguing so Harry impulsively grabbed the fabric and put it in his pocket.

He stood up and walked to Ron.

‘Honestly boy, what do you think...’ the witch was saying in a high pitched voice.

‘I think we’re done here,’ Harry interrupted her tirade.

‘Finally,’ Ron murmured. Harry sent the body into the St. Mungo’s by a wave of his wand.

‘Oh no, are you leaving?’ the witch asked. ‘Could we take a picture?’ she gestured at Harry.

Although this still happened quite often, it still surprised him. But he got better at reacting to such situations.

‘No thank you,’ he said and with Ron in tow started walking away.

‘You ungrateful...’ she was shouting behind them.

‘What a nice lady,’ Ron laughed. ‘So you didn’t find anything?’

‘Nothing. Beside the Killing curse of course, there were no traces of dark magic or any other spells that could harm her. No blood either. I think they killed her elsewhere.’

‘Great,’ Ron sighed.

‘Yeah, nothing new there,’ Harry muttered.

‘Why do we always get these kinds of cases. Once, just once I would like to go on a raid.’ His eyes sparkled.

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Harry. ‘We go on raids.’

‘Yeah? When was the last time we went on one?’ challenged Ron.

‘Er… I’m not sure.’

‘Exactly! We never go any more. Always just paperwork and murders. It’s no fun,’ moaned Ron.

Harry had to admit that Ron was right. Sometimes it got boring. But unlike Ron, he liked solving mysteries.

‘And it’s just horrible seeing dead people all the time. Sometimes I would like to just run after someone who is alive, you know?’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Harry.

‘And Davies? Such a loss,’ Ron shook his head. ‘Such a great chaser. The best of this season. Ginny is going to be so angry.’

‘I bet. Hopefully it will stay out of the papers for some time.’ They were nearing the entrance to the Ministry. ‘It will be a mess when Prophet catches on.’

‘Merlin, that will be awful.’

 

***

 

It was relatively peaceful three days after that. They didn’t get too much further with the solving of the murder. They contacted her family and the team. They interviewed her team mates, family and friends. Everyone was shocked. Ginny was furious. She cried and screamed, got angry and sad. Apparently they were really good friends.

The Holyhead Harpies released a statement that day. Public was demanding action. Prophet encouraged the outrage and it seemed they held its own investigation. What with theories, rumours and all.

It was always frustrating. Not enough or no clues or evidence were making their job harder and exasperating. Furious fans didn’t help either.

It also didn’t help he practically stole a piece of evidence. He didn’t even know why he did it. He was sure that it was a coincidence, it didn’t mean anything, it could be anyone’s with the same initials. It couldn’t possibly belong to the murderer. He was sure of it.

He was just thinking about it, sitting at his desk and chewing on his lips when Ron walked in and put papers in front of him. He was grinning.

‘I think we are finally moving somewhere.’ He pointed towards the paper.

‘What is it?’ asked Harry as he looked down. In front of him were several photos of a couple. They were laughing, looking at ease, kissing.

The text below read: ... _t_ _he pictures took by_ _an_ _anonymous source clearly show that_ _Madeline Davies_ _(_ _✝_ _23)_ _, famous chaser for Holyhead Harpies, was maintaining dalliances with fellow quidditch player and former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy_ _(26)_ _. The news came as a shock to everyone. The pictures were taken several months ago and were taken by a fan of Davies who wished to remain anonymous. ‘I didn’t want her image to suffer, to being associated with a player of a rival team? Death Eater?’ they answered when asked why they didn’t make the photos public sooner. It remains to see_ _how this new information will influence the investigation and if elite auror_ _duo Weasley-Potter are…_

He didn’t read the rest of the article. ‘How did we not know this?’ asked Harry, mildly annoyed.

‘She was really private person, you heard her family, she never brought anyone home, they were surprised too,’ Ron jabbed his finger on the page.

‘Yeah, but what does it say about us as investigators?’ questioned Harry. ‘That the Prophet found out first?’

‘Nothing. You know how it is Harry. With these cases, sometimes you just get lucky.’ Ron shrugged his shoulders. ‘So when should we interview Malfoy?’

Harry shot up from his chair. ‘Immediately. We are on thin ice with Robards as it is already. I wonder if he saw the pictures.’

‘It’s not our fault that the Prophet got them. We are going to use the information and make the best of it, yeah?’ Ron sounded like he was reassuring himself more than Harry.

Ron took out a portkey from his drawer. They held it, swirled in the air and landed at the quidditch pitch at Portree.

The players were flying high on their brooms. They apparently had a practise.

‘Let’s watch,’ said Ron and pulled Harry to the lowest stands. Even though it wasn’t his favourite team, he was still absorbed by the mock game. ‘Oh, they’re really good. The Canons will go down, won’t they?’ Ron asked sadly.

Harry nodded. ‘It seems like it.’ He looked up to the sky and watched the players score on both sides. There was a lonely figure above them all, cruising around.

‘I wonder how the Harpies will deal with the situations.’ Ron’s eyes were keenly following the flyers.

‘Yeah, but I doubt Ginny will let that influence their game. I have a feeling they will be even fiercer.’

‘I hope so. I will be devastated if the Prides win. With Malfoy… and all,’ he waved his hand towards the pitch.

Harry was silent and kept watching the game.

After an hour it was finally over and the players started to fly back down.

‘Let’s go,’ Harry stood up and went down the stands.

‘Malfoy!’ he called. Malfoy was holding his broom, talking to a team mate. His eyes shot up, surprised, and he saw Harry and Ron walking to them. He said goodbye to the man and waited on the spot.

‘Potter, Weasley. I am surprised it took you so long,’ Malfoy greeted when they reached him.

‘It is just four days!’ Ron spluttered.

Malfoy smirked. ‘Four days too long Wealey. I read somewhere, what was it,’ he contemplated, ‘that you two are the best of the auror force? Well...’ he drawled.

‘Okay Malfoy, let’s not do this now,’ Harry sighed, trying to stay calm. ‘It’s in your best interest to cooperate.’

‘I never said I wouldn’t, Potter. It’s not my fault you two can’t take a quip,’ he shook his head and readjusted his broom beside him.

‘So I take it you read the Prophet,’ Harry said.

‘I don’t read the shit,’ said Malfoy offended. ‘I read the Harpies’ statement.’

‘So you didn’t read today’s issue?’ asked Ron.

‘No. Why?’ he narrowed his eyes.

‘Where were you on the 2nd of April?’ Ron questioned, ignoring Malfoy.

‘Home,’ Malfoy said.

‘Anyone with you?’

Malfoy shook his head. ‘No, I was alone.’

‘Okay. So what was your relationship with Madeline Davies?’ continued Ron.

‘We didn’t have any relationship really,’ Malfoy said thoughtful. ‘We were acquaintances. Colleagues.’

Ron raised his brows. ‘Really?’ He took out the papers and handed it to Malfoy. ‘It seems to me like you were more than just colleagues.’

Malfoy was looking at the pictures for a while then back at them. Harry noticed his face stiffened. He handed it back to Ron and Harry glimpsed the two people in the photos kiss and laugh.

‘So?’ Harry asked Malfoy.

‘As I said, we weren’t in any sort of relationship. This was taken in october, the first and the last time we met in more of a private manner.’

‘What was the reason for your meeting?’ Ron demanded.

‘What do you _think_ Weasley?’ sneered Malfoy.

‘Answer the question Malfoy.’ Ron seemed a little irritated but tried to remain professional.

Malfoy sighed. ‘Dinner. And then sex.’

‘When did you see her next time?’ continued Ron.

‘I saw her when we played against each other. Never for a sexual encounter again, however,’ Malfoy was obviously getting irritated by the topic.

‘Why not? Did she turn you down?’

Malfoy’s nostrils flared after Ron’s snort, but he still answered. ‘We agreed on one night only.’

Harry was watching the exchange closely. He didn’t want to miss any Malfoy’s reaction and expression so they could review the memory in a pensieve.

‘Are you sure? What if she didn’t like it or you, but you begged and begged,’ Ron was talking and Malfoy was standing straighter with his knuckles going whiter around the wooden handle, ‘and she kept turning you down and one day you snapped and… ‘

‘What are you insinuating Weasley?’ Malfoy gritted through his teeth.

‘Well, if I have to spell it out for you, Malfoy. Did you kill her?’

‘No,’ Malfoy said immediately.

‘You have no witnesses about your whereabouts on the day of the murder. I wouldn’t be so sure.’

‘Is this how it's done now?’ Malfoy asked. ‘Aurors just come and start to accuse innocent people for no other reason than aversion and very forgotten school rivalry?’

‘No, of course not,’ Harry joined the conversation. Malfoy and Ron were both seething.

‘It sure seems like it.’ If looks could kill, Harry would be dead.

‘We can still retreat the memory of the day,’ Harry rolled his eyes. ‘No need to get testy.’

Malfoy’s eyes went wide. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘That’s sketchy Malfoy.’ Ron’s smirk was satisfactory.

‘I didn’t do it and I won’t give you my memory. As long as I know I am not obligated to do so until the minister gives the order.’

Ron laughed at this. Loud. ‘And you think we couldn’t manage this?’

Malfoy’s eyes darted between them, alert and angry at the same time. ‘Until you do, am I free to go now?’

Harry narrowed his eyes. There was definitely something.

‘Sure,’ Harry nodded while Ron said ‘No!’ at the same time.

Malfoy didn’t say anything when he was leaving, but his jaw was clenched and he deliberately bumped Ron’s shoulder.

‘That stupid git!’ Ron went to grab him, but Harry took hold of his arm and stopped him.

‘Okay, calm down,’ Harry tried to placate him. But he wasn’t feeling any less annoyed. He was just hiding it better.

‘He just still gets on my nerves so much! I can’t stand him.’

‘I know, me neither, but we have to keep our focus Ron.’ He let go of his arm and put his robes closer to his body. ‘Let’s go, it’s getting cold.’

‘Right,’ Ron cast a warming charm on both of them. He held out the portkey. ‘We’re still going to call him in right?’

‘Of course we are,’ Harry agreed although he doubted they could get anything more out of Malfoy. Veritaserum was still an option, in spite of the fact its effect on people was recently being questioned as inactive in some cases.

Harry got hold of the beer bottle and was yanked into the swirl of colours.

 


	2. The guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are running high at number 12 Grimmauld Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Two weeks passed since the murder of Madeline Davies. The investigation didn’t progress much. Malfoy’s second interrogation went just as Harry suspected. Ron was annoyed, Malfoy sneered a lot and Harry was tired. He told them the same thing as before, he didn’t give them the memory and they didn’t have an official order from the minister.

‘Are you joking Weasley?’ Kingsley asked with wide eyes. ‘No I will not give you the permission, you have no proof whatsoever, no evidence.’

‘But we do! The photos are evidence enough, are they not?’ Ron waved his arms wildly.

‘The photos only prove they knew each other on some level...’

‘But surely it’s enough!’ Ron interrupted.

‘Auror Weasley,’ said Kingsley calmly, ‘I already made my decision and based on the lack of evidence, I will not give the order.’

‘But...’

‘You are dismissed,’ Kingsley glared at them.

Outside of his office Ron turned to him. ‘Thank you mate, for agreeing with me in there,’ he said sarcastically.

‘You know he was right, Ron,’ Harry sighed. They had this conversation before and Harry told Ron that the lack of any proof was insufficient. Ron was just going on about the same thing.

They used the Veritaserum and beforehand approved questions. Malfoy was telling the truth about the night.

They let him go. Malfoy smiled triumphantly as he was leaving.

Ron was reluctant to let it go, so he kept Malfoy’s name as the only suspect. After all, they didn’t have anything or anyone else.

The non-existent development of the case was a main topic in papers. The rumours were spreading about potential assailants. Malfoy was in the papers more because of the suspicion of murder than his team’s game. Harry and Ron never gave interviews to the Prophet and Kingsley only made official statements about the case. He never mentioned Malfoy as a possible killer. Officially, he was off the hook.

‘For now,’ Ron said when Harry mentioned it. In Ron’s head, he was basically convicted.

Ron couldn’t get over his hate towards Malfoy. It didn’t help that his team beat the Canons three years in a row, Harry thought. And during the case his resentment only escalated. For Harry it was different. He didn’t really hate Malfoy, a long time passed since school and the war and he was exhausted. He didn’t want to hold grudges.

He felt guilty as well.

The handkerchief, the only possible clue they could have latched on to, was now staring at him from his kitchen table. White and pristine.

It was the worst thing he has ever done as an auror. Withholding evidence could get him sacked, no matter his name.

What he did was impulsive and not thought through. He should’ve just left it there to be found, not grab it and hide it in his pocket.

But he couldn’t do otherwise. It was the only action he could think of when he saw it.

He still didn’t do anything about it. It was in his house, making him feel awful.

He should confront the situation. Make himself feel better about himself. To get rid of the guilt on his consciousness.

So that’s exactly what he planned to do. As he was standing up he heard the swishing sound from his sitting room.

‘Shit,’ he murmured. He put the handkerchief back in his pocket just in time. Hermione and Ron entered the kitchen.

‘Hey guys,’ he greeted them.

‘Hello Harry,’ said Hermione and hugged him.

Thank god Kreacher cooked more dinner than necessary. He completely forgot they meant to meet up.

‘I’m starving,’ said Ron and was smelling the air. ‘What is it?’

‘Curry.’ Harry wanted to serve his friends but after a loud crack, the house-elf appeared. ‘Jesus!’

‘Master sit and Kreacher serve,’ Kreacher screeched and pushed him away.

All three of them sat down.

‘He is so weird,’ Ron shivered. It was true, Kreacher tend to appear unexpectedly anywhere at any time. But Harry was smarter than say so in front of Hermione.

She slapped Ron on the shoulder. ‘Don’t be disrespectful,’ she scolded him. ‘Look how old he is and still serving. He deserves your gratitude, Ron.’ Hermione was still passionate about house-elves rights, just like in school.

‘I just meant that he was creepy,’ Ron muttered.

‘Ron... Oh, thank you Kreacher,’ she cut herself off when veinous hands appeared at her left and put a steaming plate in front of her. Kreacher murmured something. Harry was glad it wasn’t insults any more.

He put plates in front of Harry and Ron as well and went to put the rest of the food away.

‘Oh, this is delicious,’ said Ron with his mouth full. Hermione looked pointedly at him. Ron rolled his eyes. ‘Thank you, Kreacher, it tastes really good.’ The house-elf didn’t react and kept murmuring under his nose just like always. ‘See? He doesn’t care,’ Ron told Hermione and put another spoonful in his mouth.

‘Anyway,’ Hermione sighed, ‘I don’t know if Ron told you, because he doesn’t remember,’ Hermione looked at Ron, ‘but Rose’s birthday party will be at the Burrow in the end.’

‘No, he didn’t mention anything,’ said Harry.

‘I would, I would. It just slipped my mind.’

Hermione glared at Ron and the food flying from his mouth. ‘God, Ron. Chew first.’

‘Okay, the Burrow. Got it,’ Harry spoke.

‘Will you come with anyone?’ Hermione asked innocently.

Harry glared at Ron, who pretended he didn’t see and stuffed his face with rice. ‘No I won’t.’

‘Oh. So it didn’t work out?’ Hermione seemed sadder then was healthy.

‘It? There was absolutely nothing going on. I don’t know what Ron told you, but it was definitely a lie.’

‘Hey! I didn’t lie! It’s not my fault that ‘Mione was already planning your wedding,’ Ron defended himself vehemently.

‘Oh please, Ronald. I was not,’ she responded. ‘I only thought you’d like to bring her.’

‘Oh my god, there was absolutely nothing going on between us. She was obsessed with me, that’s all.’ Harry finished his plate and put it aside. He went to grab a glass of water.

‘Didn’t you take her to dinner, mate?’ Ron asked.

‘No, she did. And it was only once, at the beginning. I agreed, cause at that time she didn’t behave like a weirdo.’ He drank his water in one go.

‘Aren’t you exaggerating a bit Harry?’ questioned Hermione. ‘You know how you are. A little praise and you go all closed off.’

Harry leaned against a counter and looked at her. ‘She didn’t even eat her food because she was talking so much. About me and my beautiful soul, as she put it,’ he snorted and immediately shuddered remembering the evening. She was nice enough, her first day working at the Department of Magical Transportation Harry came to pick up his portkey. Sure, her eyes widened comically, but most people still reacted to him like that. In a hindsight that should have been his first red flag.

‘Okay, I was just asking,’ smiled Hermione. ‘Anyway, you are free to bring someone. The party isn’t until may anyway.’

Harry went back to sit at the table. ‘Hermione. I know you mean well but don’t worry. I’m fine.’

‘I know you are. But you are single since the war Harry.’

‘What? Am not. I had relationships,’ Harry defended himself and set back in his chair.

Ron snorted and Hermione raised one eyebrow. ‘One-night stands don’t count.’

He spluttered. ‘Sometimes there were two nights.’ He was grasping at straws.

‘Yes, whatever you want to tell yourself,’ she said sarcastically and drank her wine. ‘You know I don’t like to meddle in your life, but you are right. I am worried. This lifestyle is dangerous, I hope you know. And I also hope you use protection when...’

Her speech was interrupted. ‘Merlin, Hermione!’ screamed Ron and Harry only responded with ‘Oh my god.’

‘You two are such babies!’ she laughed. ‘It’s a perfectly appropriate topic amongst adults.’

‘I don’t care. I don’t want to know about Harry’s sex life,’ Ron insisted.

‘Right back at you,’ agreed Harry and hoped this topic was finished. ‘Although you did share quite a bit at the beginning.’

Ron went red in the face and Hermione rolled her eyes and only slight pink colour appeared on her cheeks.

‘Maybe I should return the favour,’ Harry contemplated, taking the piss.

‘I wouldn’t mind. If you need to talk about it, we’re here for you.’ It was classic Hermione’s reaction.

‘No. Hermione is there for you. I, on the other hand, don’t want to talk about this any more. Let’s change the topic,’ Ron pleaded and Harry and Hermione both laughed. They moved to the sitting room.

For Ron the change of topic meant talking about work. Specifically Malfoy.

‘Oh no. Not this again,’ groaned Hermione when Ron mentioned his name.

‘Well I’m sorry if I’m concerned about a public safety when a killer’s on the loose.’

Hermione narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought he wasn’t a suspect any more.’

‘Officially he isn’t. But I know better. I know him. He did it.’

‘Harry, what do you think?’ Hermione turned to him on the sofa.

‘I don’t know,’ he hesitated, ‘I’m note as sure as Ron, but there’s definitely something he isn’t telling us.’

‘Ha! See? Even Harry thinks so!’ exclaimed Ron triumphantly.

‘No he doesn’t,’ Hermione shook her head and it was evident she tried to stay calm. Ron probably spoke about the case a lot at home.

‘I don’t think he’s the killer, no,’ Harry admitted.

‘But he is sketchy, right?’ Ron couldn’t let it go.

‘Yeah.’

‘It is such a great opportunity to finally get him,’ Ron said.

‘What do you mean?’ this was new to Harry, but apparently not Hermione who drained her glass and looked resigned.

‘He is a Death Eater and should go to Azkaban for it. He was supposed to be there long time ago.’ His eyes were far away.

Harry testified at Malfoy’s trial and at his mother’s too. It was partly due to his testimony they walked free.

Ron went on. ‘Now we have a chance to lock him up for good. We should do everything in our power to get him imprisoned. He doesn’t deserve to be free. Don’t you think so?’ He looked at Harry and then Hermione. Hermione wasn’t saying anything and only massaged her temple.

‘I obviously don’t. You know I testified for him,’ Harry said, surprised at his friend’s words.

‘Yeah, like I could forget. It still bugs me you did it,’ Ron stared at him like he wanted Harry to go back in time and never appear at the hearings.

‘You didn’t say anything,’ Harry said mildly annoyed.

‘No? I remember I said I would never do that. But you went and did it anyway.’

‘You didn’t say you wanted me not to do it.’ He hated arguing with Ron.

‘You should have known. And if I would, would you change your mind?’

Harry knew the answer immediately. ‘Probably not.’

‘Of course. The fucker evidently means more to you than your best friend,’ Ron’s glare turned furious.

‘Ron!’ Hermione yelped.

Harry's voice was becoming harsher. ‘How can you say that when you know what you...’

‘Boys! That’s enough!’ Hermione’s voice was loud and it brought Ron out of his angry trance. He blinked several times and put his head in his hands.

‘Merlin, I’m sorry,’ his voice was muffled and Harry’s anger dissipated as well. ‘He just… when I see him I see Bill’s scars and Fred...’

Hermione stroked his back. ‘I know.’

Harry didn’t know. He didn’t know that Ron felt this way. ‘I didn’t know.’ It’s been almost nine years since Fred’s death. It was stupid and ignorant of Harry to think it didn’t hurt any more. It hurt him when he thought of Fred, he should’ve imagined it would be even more painful for Ron. He hated himself for how dense he was.

‘Yeah,’ Ron muttered. ‘I know he didn’t kill him, but he is… was one of them. In my mind he’s responsible.’

‘I get it, really,’ and he did. He used to feel like that before. When he contemplated if he should go to Malfoy’s trial, what would he say and how he felt about it all. In the end, he thought he did the right thing. Now he wasn’t so sure.

‘I think we should go,’ said Hermione as she stood up and held her husband’s hand.

‘Yeah, okay,’ Harry stood too and walked with them to the fireplace.

Ron turned to him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean… You know, right? I am just so frustrated with this all thing.’

‘It’s okay, I understand,’ Harry nodded and gripped his shoulder reassuringly.

‘It was lovely Harry, thank you,’ Hermione said and hugged him. Harry smiled and waved as they disappeared in the flames.

He was tired. He went straight to bed.

As he was laying there, he saw a white material peeking out of the pocket of his jeans, rumpled on the floor.

It was weighing him down all evening. The guilt even greater than before.

He groaned and closed his eyes.

He had to do something. Soon.


	3. The suspect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new case is on the table and Harry finally makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I have no knowledge how police investigations go and even less about the magical one, so it's really just me making stuff up as I go :)

Next few days in work were worse then ever.

The media went crazy over any new information coming out about the case, which there were none. There were crazy for rumours. Journalists kept standing in the Ministry atrium all day. Harry could see them from the windows when he went to lunch or bathroom. It was harder to avoid them.

Ron was so focused on the case that it seemed he even forgot to eat some of the time. Which was something to be concerned about with him.

But there was nothing. Nothing new or nothing of importance. People kept calling them to say that they saw what happened or that they knew who did it. But when they came to interview them, it was clear they made it up. For whatever reason.

So it was like a breath of fresh air when they were assigned to another case, while this one was obviously at dead end. Ron did not like it and didn’t want to abandon his desk.

It was nearing the end of the work day. ‘Fine, I’ll go alone, but you owe me,’ Harry growled, when Ron kept stubbornly sitting in his chair, rereading a file on Malfoy. It was just a minor theft, so it wasn’t particularly necessary for both of them to go, but it was matter of a principle for Harry. They were supposed to work in a team after all.

‘Yeah yeah, I’ll bring the treacle tart next time,’ Ron distractedly waved his hand at Harry, not even taking his eyes from the parchment in his hands. Harry sighed.

He went down the hall and saw the reporters down below. He clenched his jaw.

They immediately swamped him as he was stepping out of the lift. They were shouting at him all kinds of questions, about the case and, not surprisingly, about his personal life. He didn’t react in any way, just kept staring ahead, marching through them. He couldn’t understand how they were allowed to be there, disturb everyone who walked past. Well, maybe not everyone, he thought, but they were definitely disturbing and annoying him.

When he finally get to the floo, he cast a spell so they couldn’t hear him and follow him. He ended up in the apothecary in Diagon Alley, where there was already an older man waiting for him. He quickly got rid of the ash from his robes and shook the man’s hand.

‘Hello, Mr. Potter. I’m Edward Hayward, owner of the shop,’ the man exhaled. ‘I am so happy they send _you_! Look at this, such madness!’ the man splayed his hands wildly.

Harry looked around and saw that the windows were broken and there was glass everywhere on the floor. The counters with potions were a mess, several vials broken and spilling liquid.

‘Is this how you found it?’ Harry asked and went to check around the shop.

‘Yes. I already closed for the day and was drinking tea upstairs – I have a flat there – when I heard a blast and floor shaking under my feet. I went down and found it like this, totally wrecked!’ he was gesturing with his arms again.

‘What was stolen?’ Harry was casting spells to detect any trace of magic that caused it, but was getting nothing. Someone was clever and hid their trace carefully, hid even their magical signature, which only the most skilled wizards and witches were capable of. The most skilled or the stupidest ones. It was quiet dangerous to do after all. The apothecary didn't have any advanced protecting spells around when it happened, Harry disovered.

‘Vial of Sleeping Draught.’

Harry turned to face the man, surprised. ‘One vial? And nothing more?’

‘Yes! I checked twice, that’s the only thing missing. So much chaos for nothing. Oh my, just look at that.’

And Harry was looking, with a frown on his face. To go to this much trouble for one small vial of the potion was suspicious at least. It wasn’t very expensive and not that hard to brew, if Harry said so himself. It was nothing compared to Draught of Living Death, more powerful and dangerous. Why explode the windows on an apothecary with no protection and make a mess for something so easily attained?

‘Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt your business or any other previous thefts of similar nature?’

‘No!’ the man put a hand on his heart with wide eyes. ‘I am a good person and a potioneer, I have never had any argument, ever. Definitely not one that would call for this atrocity!’ he yelled the last word. ‘And for forty years that I do this, no one ever stole anything, and if they did I didn’t notice. I don’t understand.’ He shook his head sadly, looking at his shop.

Harry then asked the owner for the memory of the events who quickly procured a silver thread-like memory and put it inside a glass bottle that Harry was holding. He cast a spell tu put everything in order after assuring he didn’t miss anything important.

When the room looked like before the owner sighed, content. ‘Thank you. I am sorry they sent you for this, really, a stupid vial, when you have this big murder on your table,’ the man was saying, ‘but I just couldn’t let this be when it looked like a herd of erumpents rolled in here! Honestly.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s my job and I will definitely get back to you when there will be anything significant.’

When there was nothing else left to do for him, Harry said his goodbyes and politely avoided an imploring question about new development in his ‘big murder’.He went back to the Ministry to write it all down and look through the wizard’s and his own memories.

He could do it tomorrow, but the truth was, he was avoiding going home.

He still didn’t do anything about the bloody handkerchief. But he promised himself that today was the day. Just like it was the day before and the day before that. He didn’t know what to do, how to do it, what to say. He just had it in his house, lying under his pillow.

He was pathetic, he thought as he was sitting at his desk, staring at the finished report about the theft. But everyday he was more reluctant. He repeated to himself in his head that it was a coincidence, for sure, that it would not help them to solve it. And then he thought of Ron. Of his obsession with the whole thing, his anger and resolve. He wasn’t there when Harry came back, which was strange since he tend to stay overtime these days. Hermione had probably dragged him away and Harry was glad for it, for many reasons.

He only kept feeling guilty every time he saw Ron going through the case file with non-existent evidence. He also felt guilty when he remembered the last get together and Ron’s miserable expression.

Decision firmly in place, Harry stood up and walked out of the office.

***

It was way past midnight when he finally apparated right in front of the door and knocked. He felt a little dizzy. That’s what long distance apparition could do to him.

There was no sound behind the door, no light.

He sent his patronus inside the house with a message. He didn’t want to just barge in, unannounced.

No less than two minutes passed and he heard steps.

The door swung open.

‘Are you fucking joking? What are you doing here? I was sleeping when that beast of yours scared me out of my mind!’

Harry ignored the lack of greeting and took out the white fabric.

‘Is this yours?’ he asked and showed it to him.

His forehead creased in confusion. ‘Yes it is. Why do you have it? Did you steal it from me?’

Harry ignored the question. ‘I would love it, if you could explain to me, why was your handkerchief in the hand of dead Madeline Davies, Malfoy.’


	4. The secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memory and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: I debated with myself if I should write the chapte like this and then post it or omit it (the sex) all together. It was so difficult for me to write, cause I've never wrote a sex scene this explicit. I'm not sure I like it, I might change it after some time if crippled by more doubts.  
> If you cringe while reading it, trust me - I cringe more...  
> Anyways, I hope you like at least some parts of this chapter!

He walked inside after him and slammed the door.

‘Care for a drink?’ asked Malfoy, already pouring himself a glass in the sitting room.

‘No. I didn’t came here for a social visit,’ Harry said and stood stiffly in place.

Malfoy just raised an eyebrow and sat himself in the armchair, lazily crossing his legs and sipping his drink?

‘No? Shame,’ he smirked and looked him up and down.

Harry stood there, near the door, glaring at him. He was at a loss how calm Malfoy was, considering the situation. ‘Do you realise that this,’ he shook the handkerchief in front of him,‘could be all that’s needed to accuse you of murder?’

‘I doubt it, since you have it,’ Malfoy drank his drink. ‘And the question is, _why_ do you have it? Shouldn’t it be in an evidence at the Ministry?’

‘It’s none of your business,’ Harry murmured, because he didn’t know how to explain himself. ‘Tell me, why was it in her hand?’

Malfoy sighed and briefly closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I have so many of them that I don’t notice if one of them is missing. I have no idea how she procured it.’

Harry narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know if he believed him. There was something there, in his unmoving face that unsettled him. He finally moved and decided to approach the situation in another way. He sat opposite him on the sofa.

‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ he said, looking at him, ‘but everything you say is off the record.’

Malfoy snorted. ‘You don’t say Potter. I am not stupid to think that this could be an official auror business of yours. But I have nothing to tell you.’

Harry pinched his nose. ‘Malfoy...’

‘I already told you everything, there’s nothing else.’ He finished his drink and it seemed like the conversation ended there. But Harry wouldn’t have it.

‘Why didn’t you give us the memory of that evening?’ he asked and watched him carefully. Malfoy’s face didn’t show anything.

‘Because I didn’t have to,’ he just shrugged.

‘It could’ve proven you didn’t do it. If you’re telling the truth.’

‘I am confident it would not help. There’s nothing, because I didn’t kill her,’ his voice was almost bored. Almost.

‘Well there’s this,’ he pointed to the damn handkerchief beside him.

‘Oh, please. Like you are going to tell you stole it from her dead hand. Because that is what happened, isn’t it?’ Malfoy tilted his head and watched him with unnerving intensity.

‘It doesn’t matter why I have it. What matters is, why it was even there if you’re so adamant you didn’t give it to her or wasn’t with her that night.’ Harry was getting tired, it was like talking to a wall.

‘Is that jealousy I hear, Potter?’ Malfoy asked and smirked.

‘Hardly. It’s exhaustion at your unwillingness to cooperate,’ he answered.

‘I told you everything, twice. Just because you don’t believe me, doesn’t mean I hide something.’

‘Because I don’t believe you, it means you’re hiding something,’ he retorted back.

Malfoy’s nostrils flared and his mask was finally breaking. ‘You think I killed her?’

Harry shook his head and sighed. ‘I think you are lying about something. I don’t know what it is, but it very well may be that.’

‘So you do think I killed her,’ he stated, clearly suppressing his rising anger.

‘No, but I might if you won’t tell me the truth. Just tell me,’ Harry stood up. He was fed up with this conversation that didn’t lead anywhere. Malfoy stood up too.

‘You think I’m a fucking murderer,’ he made a step closer, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

‘Well, you might have changed since Hogwarts,’ Harry spoke and Malfoy stopped.

His chest was moving rapidly under his robe and his face was going all red.

‘I never killed anyone,’ he was seething.

Angry Malfoy was always better than disinterested one. At least now there was some emotion in his face.

‘Then show me the memory so I can believe you,’ Harry tried, his voice rising.

There was silence. None of them moved.

Then Malfoy picked up his wand and summoned a pensieve from a cabinet. It flew right in front of him. He placed the wand to his temple and a silver shimmering thread was swirled around the tip. He motioned it down into the pensieve and glared at Harry. He didn’t waste any time, stepped forward and leaned down.

He landed in the sitting room. Only now there was Pansy Parkinson sitting on the sofa, where Harry was just several moments ago. She was reading _The Daily Prophet._ Harry read the date, 2nd of April. He looked out the window. It was dark outside.

Malfoy was sitting next to her, leafing through, Harry saw, the game strategy.

‘This is such a drag,’ Parkinson sighed and turned another page.

‘I honestly don’t know why you still read it,’ said Malfoy in a bored voice, not taking his eyes off the page he was reading.

‘Because it’s entertaining,’ she said and closed it. She stood up. ‘Do you have wine?’

‘Yes, in the bar,’ he motioned vaguely.

‘I do hope it’s good, you have no taste,’ she drawled and went toward the bar cabinet.

‘Excuse me, my taste is exquisite,’ he drawled back.

‘Not in wine, dear, you must admit it some day.’ She opened it and browsed for a while. ‘Oh, well. This one’s nice,’ she picked the bottle and poured herself a glass of red. ‘Cheers.’ She drank a little and smacked her lips.

‘I hear you approve,’ Malfoy noted.

‘Yes I do.’ She bent down and picked something up from behind the armchair. ‘Draco, you’re turning into a slob...’ she froze mid-sentence as she looked it over.

‘What?’ Malfoy finally looked at her and his face paled and eyes widened.

‘What the hell is this?’ she showed it to him. It was a red jumper with green H in the middle.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just gaped. ‘I was drunk when I bought it,’ he said in the end.

‘Salazar, is it yesterday? Is it April Fools Day again?’

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Please, tell me you’re not fucking around with Potter?’ she was shaking her head in disbelief.

‘Of course I’m not,’ he snorted.

‘You are! I can’t believe it.’ She drank the whole glass in one go and slumped down in the armchair. ‘This is a sin against fashion,’ she threw it to Malfoy, who caught it and stared at it. ‘So. What the fuck, Draco? Are you out of your mind?’

He threw the jumper on the arm rest and the papers on the table. ‘It’s nothing you should worry about,’ he said.

‘Isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Because it seems to me that you finally lost the plot with him.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘That school obsession of yours. This is not sane. I thought you acted a bit weird these couple of days. How long is it going on?’ she leaned forward.

‘It’s none of your business, Pansy,’ he snarled.

‘Month? Two? Four? More?’ her eyes widened and she laughed. ‘I can’t believe it. You’re fucking Harry Potter, The Golden Boy. You, Draco Malfoy. This is hysterical!’ She laughed some more, loud and joyful.

‘What is so funny?’ Malfoy snapped.

She wheezed. ‘Wow, I haven’t laughed this much since… no, I’ve never laughed this much.’

‘I am glad you’re having fun,’ he crossed his arms on his chest, ‘but you can not tell anyone, Pansy. Promise me. No one.’

‘And who would believe me? How did I not see it coming?’ she shook her head again. ‘So tell me, how is it?’

‘How is what?’

‘The sex with the Saviour, of course,’ she stood up and sat again on the sofa so close to Malfoy that she was almost sitting on his lap.

‘I’m not telling you, you cow!’ he pushed her away. ‘Pansy, seriously, promise you won’t tell? It would ruin my reputation.’

‘What reputation?’ He glared at her. ‘All right, I promise. Can you imagine what would the _Prophet_ write?’

‘No, I don’t want to imagine anything.’ He picked up the strategy again. ‘Let’s not talk about it anymore.’

‘You barely told me anything! Come on, Draco. I want some details.’ She grabbed his hand in both of hers. ‘Does he fuck you? Do you fuck him?’

‘Merlin, Pansy, no! You’re so crass!’

‘Look at you, you’re blushing!’ she pinched his cheek. He slapped her hand away and rubbed the skin.

‘Fuck off. I need to read this,’ he opened the file once more.

‘So, you’re not telling me anything?’ she asked.

‘For the hundredth time, no. Go finish the bottle if you must,’ he sat back and turned some pages.

She surveyed him with keen eyes and then she pouted. ‘As you wish, darling.’She summoned the bottle from the other side of the room. ‘So can I still stay the night?’

‘Of course, we agreed.’

‘You know, I’m just asking in case you have some other… engagements tonight,’ she sipped her wine delicately.

‘Do shut up,’ he said under his breath.

‘I don’t think I will,’ she smiled sweetly and then Harry was pulled back.

Malfoy was standing next to the fireplace, still looking angry.

‘Well, I was looking for it for weeks,’ was the first thing Harry said.

Malfoy waved his wand and the jumper appeared on the coffe table.

Neither of them was saying anything.

Harry didn’t know how to react to that. The memory proved that he was with Parkinson, who spent the night with him. It was a relief to finally know. To know he didn’t murder Davies. Not that Harry ever believed it butsomething didn’t add up. Now he knew what.

‘I hope you’re happy now,’ Malfoy’s voice cut into the silence.

‘Yes, I am actually,’ Harry answered. ‘I don’t know why it was so hard to show me.’

‘Did you even saw what happened, Potter?’

‘I did?’ it came out as a question.

‘Well?’ he spread his arms wide.

‘What? I never thought you actually killed her. But I knew you were lying.’

Malfoy pinched his nose. ‘Great. And you missed everything else apparently.’

Harry shrugged his shoulders. ‘Parkinson knows, so what? She promised she’d keep it to herself.’

‘And _you_ believe her?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘Do _you_ believe her?’ Harry countered.

‘Of course I do, she’s my best friend,’ Malfoy straightened, like he was preparing for a fight.

‘If you do, then there’s nothing else for me to say. Why are we talking about this?’

Malfoy closed his eyes and spoke. ‘Do you realize what would happen if it got out?’

The truth is, Harry thought a lot about it since they started this thing almost five months ago. He fretted about it at the start, but as the time passed, he stopped caring. After all, it was his life. He could do whatever he wanted. Granted, he didn’t want anyone to know about them. It was still relatively new and strange. They weren’t really friends, but they fucked. It was complicated and with the case even more so.

‘It isn’t getting out,’ Harry said, exasperated.

‘It better not,’ he muttered.

‘Yes, cause it would ruin your precious reputation, wouldn’t it?’ Harry asked, teasing.

‘Everybody thinks I’m a murderer on top of being a Death Eater. It’s already ruined,’ he said through his teeth.

‘ _I_ don’t think so,’ Harry came around the table and stood in front of him.

‘Your opinion doesn’t matter, Potter.’

‘No? I am the one investigating it,’ Harry whispered in his ear and pulled on the belt of his robe.

Malfoy looked down. ‘You and Weasley. I bet he still thinks I did it, right?’

‘Let’s not talk about it,’ Harry avoided the insinuation and bit his earlobe. He already felt guilty enough, without musing about Ron right now.

‘I thought this wasn’t a social visit,’ he snaked his hands under Harry’s t-shirt, his fingers cold.

‘I changed my mind.’ And he kind of hated it. Because he wanted to be a good friend and not sleep with the enemy. But he didn’t think about Malfoy as his enemy for a long time, that was the problem. And the desire was too overwhelming.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Malfoy.

‘I have no idea.’

Harry started unbuttoning his pajamas’ top. He pushed it down his shoulders together with the robe. It pooled around his feet in black creases. He kissed up his jaw and ended on his mouth, soft and warm. The tension in his mind started disappearing. Harry roamed his hands over the muscles on his back, up to his hair. He felt Malfoy’s fingers on his waist, his thumbs digging into Harry’s sides.

He tasted like whiskey and chocolate, Harry noted. He pulled Malfoy’s head back to deepen the kiss.

They stumbled back to the sofa and Harry pushed Malfoy down on it. He undressed as Malfoy watched and then stripped down his pajamas bottoms as well. Harry was dragged  down on top of his lean body and their mouths met again, all tongue and teeth. Then those teeth were on Harry’s neck, biting lightly on the thin skin there.

‘What would you like?’ Harry asked above him, tilting his head backwards, closing his eyes.

Malfoy put his palms on his arse and squeezed. ‘Anything,’ his lips brushed Harry’s shoulder.

Harry got down on the floor. He kissed his stomach, hip bone, thigh. Then he licked up his length and grinned. Malfoy moaned and guided his head down. Harry opened his mouth and took him in. Malfoy’s hands were in his hair, his fingers scratching almost painfully on his scalp. Harry seized Malfoy’s hips and heard him moan. Harry guided him deeper still and hummed. He could smell and taste him everywhere, masculine and clean. Malfoy spread his legs wider and pushed his hips up.

Harry picked up a pace, matching his thrusts, and it didn’t take much time afterwards.

Malfoy came in his mouth, gasping, his body jerking. Harry swallowed and pulled off. He reached down to touch himself.

‘Umph,’ he startled when Malfoy, all flushed and breathing heavily, shoved him down on his back on the carpet and knelt above his stomach.

‘No, don’t,’ he grasped Harry’s hand and guided it behind him, between his cheeks. Malfoy murmured something and Harry’s fingers became slick with oil. He rubbed his forefinger along the rim and gently pushed inside.

‘Mhm,’ Draco hummed and bent his head down to Harry’s hair. ‘Another.’

Harry added a second finger and pushed, feeling Draco’s hot breaths in his hair.

‘Okay, that’s enough’ he gasped and Harry didn’t have any time to protest as he straddled him and pushed down.

‘Oh god’ Harry breathed and gripped his sides.

He started slow and travelled his palms up and down Harry’s torso.

It was a great view. His eyes were closed, biting his lip, his neck and chest flushed and glistening with sweat. His blonde hair mussed, sticking out in all directions.

‘Faster?’ he asked and looked down. Harry nodded.

Draco leaned back and braced himself on Harry’s thighs. He quickened, up and down, up and down, his finger nails digging into the muscles. 

It was divine. And frenzied. And oh, so good.

‘Draco,’ he moaned, arched up his back as he came and then slumped back down.

After few moments later, Draco stopped his torturous movements and rolled off of him on the floor.

They were laying there, side by side, panting.

Harry hitched his leg around Draco’s waist and kissed him, unhurried. ‘You wanna come again?’ he asked as he slipped his hand between them and felt he was almost fully hard.

‘Later, maybe,’ he smiled lazily. ‘I’m getting cold,’ he kissed him one more time and got up.

Harry stood up too and followed him up the stairs.


	5. The disruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt completely uninspired for a while, but finally managed to write something. Hope you like it.

Harry woke up early in the morning, his nose pressed into Draco’s hair. It smelled like coconut.

His arms were around his chest, splayed on the fair skin. Harry moved his hand away and lightly touched Draco’s side. He watched as goosebumps appeared where he trailed his fingers.

‘You know I hate when it tickles,’ Draco murmured and slapped his hand away.

‘You’re awake,’ Harry said and buried his nose into the blond strands once more, breathing in. ‘You changed a shampoo?’

‘Yes. Do you like it?’ he asked.

‘Mhm. But now I’m hungry and craving a coconut cake.’

Draco snorted. ‘No surprise there. You’re always hungry.’

‘Hm, that’s true,’ Harry agreed. He slid his hand down his side to his navel and spread his fingers there. ‘I am also hungry for something else,’ he whispered into Draco’s ear.

‘Merlin, Potter. That was truly awful,’ Draco laughed and turned his head slightly. Harry kissed his jaw and moved his hand even lower.

Draco put his own fingers over Harry’s. ‘Let’s shower.’

‘Why?’ Harry asked and continued his way down.

‘Do I have to have a reason to want a shower?’ Draco asked, sounded slightly annoyed.

Harry smiled. ‘I want to hear it.’

‘You know why,’ he said and gasped as Harry’s fingers found what they were looking for.

‘Just say it and then you can go have your shower.’

‘I hate being sticky all over my body. Happy?’ he sounded affronted.

‘But I like you dirty,’ Harry grinned.

‘There we go. You and your stupid cheesy lines,’ Draco shook his head and was sitting up, pushing Harry’s hand away.

‘I don’t know why you hate it so much,’ Harry lied back down into the pillows and watched Draco as he disentangled himself from the sheets and walked to the bathroom.

‘The word ‘cheesy’ should give you a hint,’ he said as he walked inside.

Harry stood and followed him. He allowed himself a piss, to Draco’s utter dismay.

‘Must you? Really?’ he glared as he was turning on the taps in the shower.

‘What? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,’ Harry reasoned and flushed.

Draco scrunched his nose in disgust and walked under the spray. Harry joined him seconds later. ‘Have you washed your hands, Potter?’

Harry rubbed his palms under the water. ‘Done.’

Draco just breathed in but didn’t say anything.

Harry loved this shower. Three walls were grey, smooth stone and the other one was glass door. The shower head was way too big, but yet not big enough. It was already steaming inside. Harry learned some time ago that Draco liked scolding hot showers. Almost until the end, when he drenched himself for few seconds in the ice cold one. He was that crazy.

He was standing now right in front of Harry, his head turned up towards the spray, eyes closed, completely relaxed. Harry stepped closer and pushed his fingers into his wet hair. Draco smiled, little dopey.

‘Good,’ he muttered and pushed back into the touch.

Harry massaged his scalp. He never imagined this kind of thing with _Malfoy._ It was supposed to be just sex. But here he was, giving him an amateur head massage, cuddling in bed, teasing, sleeping with him until the sun rose. The worst thing was, it didn’t feel weird. It was strange and new, but not bad.

He came closer and kissed him. He didn’t mind the boiling water, when his skin was already heating for a different reason entirely.

Draco wrapped his arms around his waist and they were chest to chest, the distance non existent.

Harry walked them back to the wall. He put his hands on each side of Draco’s shoulders and moved even closer.

Draco moaned and threw his head backwards. There was a thud. And then a cursed ‘fuck.’

Harry stopped his movements to properly look at him. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, but it hurts like a mother fucker,’ he winced and rubbed the back of his head. Harry leaned forward and whispered a spell in his ear.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘Yes, you prat,’ he said but the insult felt hollow. He moved his hand back where it was before, squeezed his butt and pulled Harry closer to resume the previous movements.

They moved against each other, their mouths sliding together, Draco’s fingers skating into the crease and down and down.

Harry came with a moan and his mouth on Draco’s shoulder. Then he took Draco’s cock into his hand and moved fast up and down. Draco kissed him, sloppy and slow and shuddered when he came. They stayed like that for a moment, leaning into each other until their breathing calmed and Harry walked them back under the water.

‘When do you have a game?’ Harry asked as he was putting a dollop of shampoo into his hair.

‘Tomorrow afternoon,’ he answered with his hair already covered in white suds.

‘What are your plans for today?’

He shrugged and rinsed his hair. ‘Reviewing the strategy, resting, and so on.’

‘Good.’

‘You can stay if you want, but not too late. Merlin, Potter, you really need a conditioner, a lot of it.’ Then he proceeded to do exactly that. It felt nice, relaxing and it smelled good too. ‘Rinse,’ Draco ordered when he was done.

‘Well, does it look better?’ Harry inquired.

‘So far. We’ll see when it’s dry.’

They kissed some more, no water was running anymore.

They dried themselves and had breakfast. They talked. About quidditch, food, plans for the next week, avoiding Harry’s work entirely.

In the afternoon, they were lounging on the couch. Or Harry was, while Draco was reading his game plans for tomorrow. He was watching him, fingers turning one page after another, sigh here and there, chest moving up and down under his t-shirt. Harry’s feet were nudging into Draco’s thigh, who didn’t seem to mind.

It was oddly domestic, Harry thought. He didn’t have time to ponder on it though, because right after Ron’s Patronus came galloping into the room.

‘ _Harry, there’s been another murder. Come quickly to the given coordinates.’_

‘Shit,’ he cursed, putting on his yesterday’s clothes and then looking at Draco.

He sat tense, his grip tight on pages he was holding. When he noticed Harry watching, he closed the notebook. ‘You better go then.’

‘Yeah.’ The atmosphere was suddenly tense and somewhat uncomfortable. So Harry bent down and kissed him, not wanting to make it worse or leave a sour taste in both of their mouths. ‘See you,’ he blurted and cringed internally.

‘Sure, Potter,’ Draco murmured and sat back, opening the notebook once more.

Harry closed the front door behind him and took a breath of fresh air. It was supposed to make him feel relieved. Instead he felt suffocated.

The smell of coconut hit his nose as he disapparated.


End file.
